


Conversations with a Sheep

by CharismaticEnticer



Series: Willingness (Counting!Verse) [5]
Category: Die Anstalt
Genre: (or is it Bimbofication without the extra i? i can never remember), (though just barely), Bimboification, Consent is involved as much as possible, F/M, First Kiss, Forced conversion at the very end, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Internalized Misogyny, Love Triangles, Multi, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Parallel Structure, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Present Tense, Self-"Slut Shaming", Self-Hatred, Sexual Content, Threesome - F/M/M, Unconventional Format, but please keep that in mind, it's not enough for a full non-con warning, six degrees of story separation, to make up for the slightly skeevy earlier installments of this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharismaticEnticer/pseuds/CharismaticEnticer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Truth be told, these are less conversations and more snapshots, preludes all to moments when words would only hinder or depress. But who wants to be a stickler when Dolly's this torn already?</p><p>WARNING: NSFW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conversations with a Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally had this plot bunny on standby since the end of Lapse, but it's only been recently that I've had the will and energy to get around to it. It seemed unfair that Dub/Wood got two, then three, expansion fics in the series, while the other four didn't get any. To that end, I made this one quite long to make up for it. 
> 
> (And yet it's still not even the longest not-WIP I have geared up _in this writing cycle_. Be very afraid.)
> 
> Yes, Sly will be getting one as well. But patience, cricket.
> 
> Die Anstalt, a little C in a circle, and a John Hancock. ...I mean © Martin Kittsteiner.

about Security

If one were to come up to Kroko, when all is said and done and some of the more threatening moments in this really big building have been ironed out, and ask him where it all begins, he would probably ask them in turn how they knew about what 'it' is. After all, that's something secret between the toys that were part of it, and if they got word, then that means they're spying on the staff and patients here, and doesn't that make them a bad guy?  
Then, after plentiful reassurance that no, they're not a bad guy, just a curious observer on the wrong side of the hindsight/foresight divide, he, still fairly suspicious but willing to do anything to get them to leave him alone, would say it all starts with his right arm.

It happens that Kroko's been having one of _those_ days, what with accidentally falling really hard onto the floor and the limb in question while trying to fly and everything; so he's dragged his baby blue blanket into his bedroom to cuddle both. Surprisingly, this time it doesn't seem to be making him feel any better at all, except in the sense that he's lucky toys don't have bones to break. He doesn't know, sitting there all pulsing and sore, if he wants someone to come in and find him and cheer him up or not, if he'll be better alone alone or alone with help. What the heart needs in times like this can be really confusing.

So when the door swings gently open and he hears the padded steps of someone coming in, he freezes up before he can either tell them to please stay or please leave him alone, his mouth caught before a single letter can escape. Fortunately, there's a voice following the shadow - "[Kroko? You in here?]" - and he relaxes. He'd know that lovely hard-soft sound anywhere. If there's going to be company at all, he's glad it'll be her; she's the only one he's really been able to talk to in this place.  
"[I'm up here, Dolly,]" he calls to the emptiness that she quickly bounds to fill.  
"[Thought you might be. Spieler asked me to come get you. He says you left before he could finish.]"  
He begins to protest that the nurse gave him Special Permission to be in here for a while; but he tends to move his arms when arguing things, and moving his arm of course means further twinging his arm, and the words are lost in winces and in favor of cradling it.

A concerned look crosses her face, and her next questions back it up. "[You okay? What's up with your arm?]"  
"[I hurt it,]" he says meekly.  
"[Yeah, I guessed that much. What happened?]"  
"[I was trying to be an eagle and fly but I fell off of the bed and the floor was too hard and now it hurts.]"  
Both she and the wing go [Ouch] at the same time, though hers is out loud and sympathetic instead of through a pain spike. "[Want me to do anything? Hug? Chat? Would that help?]"  
"[Unless you can make it stop, I don't know what will.]"

Dolly must be in one of her 'I'm going to do things without thinking' moods today rather than 'I don't trust myself to do things', because even before he's finished, she's clambered around and nestled her body underneath the offending limb, stretching it out, and her head so close to his chest that it stutters.

"[W-What are you doing?]"  
"[Making it stop. Sort of. I heard keeping bad arms propped up helps them not swell, and that blanket didn't seem to be working for that. Besides, now we're both getting that hug.]" She pauses, then looks at him again, same as before. "[Didn't make it worse, did I?]"  
"[No, Dolly, it's- it's great, I don't mind,]" Kroko musters through the putt-putt-putt in his ears. When she nuzzles back into place, he can't help but touch or gaze his fill of her various swirls and curves around her face, and, unbidden, wish to do to it what he can't do with the blanket without tasting sugar for the rest of the day.

(When did Dolly even start doing all of this to him? He's not sure, but he doubts she'll ever stop.)

It's a minute or two before any more is spoken. "[I've just thought, Kroko.]"  
"[Thought what?]"  
"[You seem to like squishy things, don't you? You have the blanket, and now you've got me to deal with.]"

"[...You know, I never thought about that,]" he confesses, subtly feeling the differences between the two as he does. One more familiar and soothing, the other – well – Dolly. "[I guess you're right. I do feel at my safest when I'm near something I can squish around. Or, um, that can squish around me. Then it can be both a comfort **and** a shield from the Eyes.]" He shivers, throws around a few side-glances – sometimes just saying their name can make them listen and bring them oozing back in through the walls or the floor.  
This time, though, all he sees is her understanding nod. "[Ah. Security thing, huh?]"  
"[Yeah. It's nice to be protected. Are you like that too?]"  
"[Sort of. It's strange; some days it's not even the protection side so much. It's more like – like I need to take care of someone else? But, you know, in a way that makes me feel better too? ...Don't worry, I don't get it either,]" adds the sheep, and he unscrambles his face so he can still be strong in front of her.

Kroko wants to be like Dolly in many ways: smart, sweet, brave enough to just do things that he could never do ordinarily. So when the quiet comes back and he feels sure that now's the right time to say what he's been biting back as she's been supporting him, what he's wanted to tell her for Steiff knows how long, he steels himself and does.  
"[You tensed up there, Kro--]"  
"[Yeah, I like lovely squishy things!]" Eep, cutting her off to say something silly, not a good start. "[But I like you best of all the squishy things there are.]"  
"[Aww. I like you too.]"

"[...Really, though. I, like... _like_ like you. Like, in my heart.]"  
"[No, I got what you meant.]"

She's shifted again, and is staring at him. No - smiling? Does he dare to hope - ?

Then, suddenly, they're kissing.

He's never going to work out, even to this day, whether she moved first or he did, whether he acted on instinct or slotted in with her own. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the fact that they're kissing, they're actually _kissing_ , and the pinnacle cuts short the need for words for now, even after they break apart, skin still connected, breaths the same.  
He wants to pull her near to him to let her know he definitely likes that bit, but not even something like this can make him forget his poor arm. Anyway, he gets the feeling she knows that too.

Things stack up for them in the usual way after that. They sit next to each other more often than usual while waiting for the next therapy slot to free up; shouted goodnights become more shy meetings of mouths goodnight, which then show up as 'hi's in early mornings; and it all stems from their previous companionship quite naturally.  
Perhaps it's because of this that neither calls each other anything that says they're more. It doesn't _feel_ quite right yet. It might fit in the future, but for now they're just good friends that like to kiss each other.

And for a short, doubt-free time, this is okay.

\---

about Silence

If one, on the other hand, were to track down Lilo in the aftermath of everything and ask him where it starts from _his_ perspective, he... probably wouldn't say anything. Or maybe he would, but it would be irrelevant to that topic after a while simply because he'd be so proud to be able to talk at last. It'd depend on when and with whom they found him.  
Either way, the idea would eventually be communicated that, in his case, it starts a few evenings later than Kroko's story does, and with a certain sound rather than any other faculty.

It has some of the earmarks of the other's tale, mind you. Similar progress-defying session with the therapist, albeit one who has been carrying flushed skin and a persistent cough for it and beyond ("[Hope I'm not coming down with something, Lilo; that'd be a bugger]"). Similar location when it occurs, the male in his bedroom. Similarly bad day... though in this case, it's Dolly that's having it, judging by the stifled sobs that hit him, and his heart, through the layers of plaster and brick.  
He's never liked hearing anyone cry, let alone hearing it come so out of nowhere, and it's with a mixture of needing to help and needing it to shut up so he can continue his reflections on anything and nothing that he sneaks out to investigate. It takes a fair amount of searching, following the echoes of it, to ultimately lead him to where she's alone, having fallen down before reaching the doors that lead to the nurse's station, lost in herself.

He approaches, cautious and slow as a toy can be, and brushes against her shoulder with his hand for lack of a better way to announce his presence.  
It takes a second or two for her to notice this - "[I-I told you, Kroko, I need to be alone for a--]" - and another one for her half-focused eyes to see that it's not the crocodile that came. "[Oh. It, it's you, Lilo.]"  
Would she prefer the other right now? The thought that he's actually only going to make her worse moves his feet a few steps back.  
"[No, it's all right. You don't have to go. Just. God forbid I waste anyone else's time, right?]" She sniffs. "[Sorry. I'm probably confusing the hell out of you right now.]"

...She's right, she is. But one thing he **did** get out of that is that she needs someone, even if not necessarily the right one for this job. So he retracts his retraction, sits, and stays.

When she's apparently ready to speak again, she sounds slightly less on the cusp of another waterfall. "[What's even up with me?]" she wonders. "[Second time this week this has happened. I start off fine and dandy, nothing wrong, then someone says something that gets me worrying about stupid things – heh, like any of my worries _aren't_ stupid – and it won't go away and it sinks in with what could have happened, what should've, and something breaks off and I need to get out before it can-- and suddenly I'm...]" She gesticulates near her stained face with a front hoof. "[This.]"  
He has nothing to say, even as she shifts to face him more.  
"[You ever get like that, Lilo? You seem like the kind that'd – You ever worry about something so hard that it feels like a piece of your soul's died? And yet you can't talk about it? Cus they've got more important things to be getting on with?]"

He nods firmly. He empathizes more than she can ever know.

"[...Guess that was kinda silly to ask, wasn't it? Ask the one who can't talk if he ever gets where he can't talk,]" says Dolly, getting the right end of the wrong stick. At least she's calming down with him around, which is more good than he thought he'd do. "[That's kind of what I like about you, Lilo. Having someone who can talk near you's all well and good, but – but sometimes you just need someone who won't say anything.]"  
His mouth crumples. Is this her attempt at returning the favor?  
"[Crap, don't take that the wrong way! I didn't mean it like that. It's... more like you wouldn't even if you could, you see? Dr Spieler would judge me for this, he says he doesn't but I know he does. And someone like Kroko... he tries his best to cheer me up, bless his heart, but. On days like this, that just doesn't work, and it's like, I can only take so much of it. You just listen. You let me vent about crap that probably means nothing to you. And that helps, a bit.]"

She makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a suppressed sigh. "[I dunno, I guess I'm all over the place right now. And you're usually always in the same spot, in the same state. I'm just trying to get a bit of you into me, I suppose,]" she finishes.

Getting a bit of Lilo into Dolly... that's something else he can do. He's not sure exactly which "bit" she means, his ear or his foot or whatever, but now that he's started making her happy, he's in no hurry to stop.  
After a few seconds of quiet extrapolation, he decides that she means his hand, since that's the best tool for touching, and from what he knows of her, she's a very tactile sort of toy. He shortens the distance between them and gingerly rests his right on her back, intending for the other one to join it in a simple soothing hug.

Then, suddenly, she's kissing him.

It's an all-too-bright flash in the pan, as far as kisses go. It's brief, if too intense for its brevity. It's quiet, if too loud in his mind to match. It's startling, if not necessarily unwanted.  
Just as she started it, she's the one to stop it, tearing herself out of his arm just as rapidly. Stumbling. Nearly backing into the wall in alarm, shock. She never ceases to look at him; he's not sure what he sees in those widening irises, or if he likes it.

"[I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean – I don't know what – That's not – I'm not supposed to... Shit,]" she sputters, as though she sees what he does, and despises it. "[I. I've gotta go.]"  
And she's off and around the corner and gone, leaving only her unexpectedly rusty taste lingering on his metal-tipped jaw.

\---

about Perceived Betrayal

"[No, Dolly, really! I'm not angry at you at all, I'm just confused! ...Please come back out, I want to see you.]"  
"[No you don't.]" She only shifts herself further under the bigger pillow she's been hiding under since she got back in. "[Why would you? I messed up. I messed **us** up.]"  
"[You have not, Dolly! We're not even that much together yet--]" he begins, trying to be gentle.  
"[--and I already messed us up. Exactly.]"

To all her credit in the world, the sheep came straight back to him, looking more upset and flustered than a walk is supposed to make someone, and told him what happened right away. The reason she had to go in the first place. The falling down, the cheering up. The fact that she gave one of her precious kisses to Lilo.  
And... yes, at first he was a little annoyed. And he feels horrid for it. Saying it was more at himself (should have followed her just in case, should have been better at cheering her up, should have all sorts of things) or that he's a cuddly toy with feelings, it's only natural, wouldn't help justify it. Good thing he didn't dwell on it for long; being upset at anyone for something that it's too late to change isn't going to help Dolly in her own upsets, and he wants to make her happy before he even considers helping himself right now.  
That's how it was supposed to work in the first place. It's the Rule. And those who lurk don't like rule breakers.

"[Don't even know what came over me,]" laments his friend from underneath her own security. "[Never kissed him before. Didn't think I had any _interest_ in kissing him before. But just like with you, I say one thing to him, he touches one bit of me, and bam. Kissing.]" His ears pick up a quiet sharp smack on the 'bam'; either she's recreating it with her fist-forming hooves, or... the alternative. "[I wouldn't be surprised if you hate me now.]"  
"[No, Dolly, I don't. I don't at all.]" He walks over to her and uses his right wing (which is feeling much better now, thanks for asking) to rub her back, but it doesn't help. "[It's okay. You've said sorry, I'm still sorry for making you sad in the first place--]"  
"[Except how you had nothing to do with it.]"  
"[--and now we can put it away. You can get back to us without worrying about what happened with Lilo.]"

Her hidden form trembles, visibly, felt all the way through the cloth and skin and distress, and says, "[God, don't I wish it were that easy.]"

"[Huh?]"  
"[Kroko, do you think I'd be like this if it was?]" He's not doing very well; she's starting to snap. "[I kissed you cus I like you, and then I kissed him, and I can't stop thinking about what if I kissed him again or kissed him first and then you or just him and _I think I like him too_. I think I like you both, I think I always have, and if I hadn't been such a thoughtless sket I wouldn't have figured that out and we wouldn't be like this!]"

… Ah. Okay. When she puts it like that...

"[Worse, liking you two means I've got to **choose** between you two. And how the hell am I supposed to choose? I mean, you've been great to me, Kroko, and the past few days have been -- And yet - I can't write off Lilo. I'm trying right now to do it, and it's just not happening.]"  
Still not sure whether to move away from her or not, he tries to prove her right. "[If. If you pick him over me, I'll understand. As long as you're happy.]"  
"[You say that, but I don't want to disappoint you to get like that. Either of you. And whoever I pick, the other one's gonna feel like shit after, and then that'll make me feel like shit. Can't even have both of you at once and sod the whole thing.]"

"[...Wait. Why can't you?]" Kroko latches on to her suggestion. Anything that can get her smiling again will do at this point. "[People can do that, right? Have more than one boyfriend at a time?]"  
He can tell from the disappearance of her feet that she's tensing up even worse. "[I'm monogamous.]"

"[Oh. ...Does that mean people can't do that, or just you can't, or-?]"  
"[I'm _monogamous,]"_ she says again, with more of a don't-test-me-on-this growl this time, so he lets it drop. Indeed, he simply lets her be quiet for a while until he can tell that she's gone into a soft, unsteady sleep.

\---

about Having Cake

All three of them – and the other two, lest they forget – wake up to find Dr Wood sitting in the therapist's chair (and getting swamped by it, in the hippo's humble opinion), due to the usual one having succumbed to that flu virus. After the seemingly-forever of Lilo being put through his tongue, surprisingly sharp and to the point now that supervision's reins have been loosened, and the half-hour he spends vaguely overhearing Dolly trying to keep it in check, the two find themselves firmly next to each other again. She doesn't look at him, nor, after confirming this fact, he at her.

He has to say, he can see why. Kroko found him while she was dealing with the stand-in and, not wishing either of them to operate under a false assumption, told him about her dilemma; and he doesn't envy it, not at all.  
He is not a romantic in the sense that most know others to be. Though he has been attracted to a few sporadic toys before, yes, it's more been to the substance and stuffing inside than the textured aesthetic, as is so-called 'conventional'. But he's aware enough of how those things work, and are shared between their proxies, to know the significance of a kiss. And, despite everything, he's pleased that it was Dolly who gave him his first. It wasn't as bad as movies made it look, and it made her happy for two incomprehensible seconds. That's what matters to him.  
It's almost too bad she is taken in all but formality by someone far better equipped to give her what she wants.

But then, that's the rub, isn't it? If Dolly could work out what she wants, there would be no issue. The two of them wouldn't be so awkward around each other now, before and after their new conversation finally begins.

"[Um. Sorry again about yesterday, Lilo.]"  
The invisible olive branch hangs in the air. He, with very little movement or debate, accepts it.  
"[Kroko told me he brought you up to speed, if it makes you feel any better. Not sure it will, just... wanted to get that out.]"  
Good, he half-thinks, side-eyeing the crocodile staring at the storm-proof-barricade embedded in the wall, ignoring everything. Now no one has secrets to hide. Or secrets that pertain to this, anyway.

"[... Okay, look - ]" and there's something in her voice, a certainty of presence sounding oxymoronically uncertain, that makes him obey - "[I'm trying everything I can think of to narrow it down to one of you or the other. That's the only way we're all going to get anywhere, I think. I don't want to string either of you along. Dragging you into this in the first place was bad enough.]"  
She fiddles with the empty space in front of her, as though there's a loose patch of ground she wants to tear up.  
"[But so far, nothing's taken. I've tried what ifs, I've tried rethinking the past, rethinking the future. I've tried sleeping on it; Spieler always says sleeping on a decision helps people feel better or make it faster because of overactive thoughts or whatever. And, well. I do feel _slightly_ less of a skank, but when it comes to you or him, I'm more confused than ever. So that cancels that out, really.]"  
Poor Dolly. He'd give her another hug if he thought it'd help, but that was another piece of what caused this mess.

"[It should be easy, though, shouldn't it?]" she rambles. "[I picked Kroko first. I kissed him first and we were friends before this all started so I should stick with him. Yet. It's like I said to him myself, I can't shake you off. I mean, we were friends too. Sort of. I'd talked to you before. And I kissed you, and it's not like it doesn't feel any different, it does, but in such a way I can't really rank the two, cus it was all under different circumstances but even now it hasn't gone away and I almost wish I **could** just bloody--]"

A quick loud cry of her name makes the pair realize that Dub, nearly at his wit's end from the looks of him, has come onto the scene. Dolly is the bilingualist of this particular now-trio, so she hears him out, denies him something or other, then he takes to his heels.  
"[Sorry, Dub's gone and lost his timer,]" she clarifies for no one's satisfaction but her own. Lilo just nods.

"[...Dammit. Now I've lost my train of thought.]" She snatches for it for a few seconds, then, in the flicker of an eye, dismisses it. "[Uh, never mind. The point is, I've got to pick between you at some point. For my peace of mind if nothing else. And my only other option is, well. To test the two of you.]"  
Test? How very formal.  
"[I know. Doesn't exactly say flowers and hearts, does it?]" It's like she can read his mind. "[But I can't think of anything else to do. Either I really pit you against him - ]" Once more, the two look to Kroko, currently in a tug of war with the turtle of before. "[- or we just end up muddling and hurting. But I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this first, Lilo. With being a part of this. What do you say?]"

He closes his eyes, letting his blocks be the bridge to reality, and mulls on this, on what could break, and what could fix. It only takes a minute. Then, back from his thoughts, he gives his affirmation.  
As long as she's happy in the end, he'll do anything to put her at ease.

"[Thanks, Lilo. …Wait. _Crap._ ]"  
The expletive is so out of nowhere that he's scared he's done the wrong thing.  
"[Sorry, I meant thanks the first time. It's just, that was Test One. Both of you took the same time to agree to this, so now it's moot.]" A soft, disheartened chuckle. "[We're off to a great start already, aren't we?]"

\---

about Her Choices

The Tests continue, irregularly but frequently, in the same vein as their "great start" over the next few days (bar one in the middle where she is too much on a downward sweep to pull any off). Sometimes they're just between the ewe and either crocodile or hippo; others are shared between the bachelors. Often, but particularly for the former, they don't know that this is so until the deed is done and Dolly, confused and flattered and torn-in-half Dolly, reminds them otherwise... though they really ought to have seen that coming by the eighth.

In the hypothetical retelling, the Test that Kroko would remember second best is the one where they had to give her loads of hugs at once, brief, not, mixtures of all sorts. Lilo would be harder pressed to find one that isn't overshadowed by the last, though the one that nets him a more forceful kiss, his second ever, would spring to mind. At any rate, the pair would say, there's quite a few of them, and every time it seems they tie in her estimations. It gets to where Kroko wonders aloud if they're doing more bad than good.

Dolly never takes them beyond the soft meetings of mouths and minds – or almost never. That's saved up for the very last, passed on to them through hushed tones in advance and at a deeper loss of how to proceed. Lilo isn't sure he can pull that off, but feels he can try. Kroko is just surprised that there's such a **thing** as 'more'!

It happens that night. The reptile comes out first, the sheep meeting him. One hides in shadows, the other in light, and both jump when the next door to open is not Lilo's, but Dub's. He isn't far behind, though, only dallying out of nerves and a need to look presentable.

They trail up the corridor, around one bend then the next, towards the nearest nameless door. This turns out to be a storage cupboard that, considering the formless clutter that lands inches away from someone's neck the second they walk inside, everyone but them must have overlooked.

Shut doors. Swallowed doubts. Layers of unease, waiting to be pierced.  
"[Well,]" says Dolly at last, "[let's get this over with.]"

 

The kisses are different tonight. Kroko can sense it when she goes for him first. He can't place how, or why it's this time and none other he can truly feel that _he's_ been on that mouth too, that he can't kiss that away.  
---  
Lilo, second in most respects, can. He knows the texture of 'last resort' and 'don't let me down', knows their tastes, as rancid from her teeth as from another's. It burns his lips, but he does what he can to soothe her.  
So does he; don't get him wrong. It's to impress her, after all. With devotion, with silent praise, with how well he knows the tufts of wool that by now he's stroked and dreamed about in equal measure, tail and ears both. Claws and curls run warm and cold.  
Hands follow suit. He has just as much to prove. More. Less. He's lost track of it, replaced by the trails he follows up her chest, where one material meets another more seamlessly than the three. Whatever he's doing it's working, he can feel a throbbing within, a catch in her breath.  
He's doing things he would never think to do, never never, has he done this before? He's got to work harder, make her happier, stand a small chance, just one chance. He hears her voice again, wordless, rippling like something he'd rather not think about  
and nor would she, for it's pitched half in alarm; he's gone to the pulley itself without thinking. They all retract, recalibrate. He scolds himself for doing her harm, the other twirls her close to do his job. Once she's calmer he steps back into the tangle of bodies, is drawn there, is  
kissed, doesn't he know there's more than muzzles to give thanks to? He plants them one by one down her back this time, cautiously, for fear of causing trouble there too. He just wants to do it to every bit of her, no patch missed,  
no part of her unmarked or untupped. Topped. By now she's a contracting contradiction, her legs, their minds, splayed in the dim light of stars. He's not sure where else to go from here but down, as she beckons him to it, his touch  
trickling to it, back as she tenses up. She has to reassure him it's just new to her, an obvious statement because it's new to all of them, a long unsteady  
foray into an unknown, for her sake. It pounds through him like routine, each note in its place, this truth. It's for her that he moves on her and against her and brings himself to this unexpected  
bliss that they share. It's for her that their bodies link, at different parts, in unexpected ways. It's for her that they dance  
together tonight, but equally for themselves, for the thrill they get when they hear her call one name or another, for the purr  
or similar thing when they reach a bit they didn't know she had, for the wobbly flight  
they're pulling her up in, to the nearest peaks they can reach, until, giving no thought to  
which or what's doing it, she climbs to the tip of her own  
with equal thirds relief, peace, and profanity.  
If they've forgotten who's who by the end,  
what of it?  
As long as she's happy.  
As long as she's happy.  
  
 

…

All three of them hit the earth. It takes longer than they think, but they do.  
One breaks free of the mess and pats himself down. Surprisingly, he doesn't feel any different.  
The other doesn't go as far, for there's no steady ground for him to move on.

Dolly, the lynch pin, returns to herself. She looks at the first, then the second, with eyes that seem to have come awake anew. Again and again she repeats the motion, faster each time. Then she huddles into herself and says something that makes their hearts sink.

"[I'm sorry, boys. ...I'm sorry. I'm sorry.]"

She still can't decide.

\---

about Eating It Too

Dolly hasn't come out of her room yet. She needs the time alone to think. So they wait. Kroko and Lilo, side by side.

"[Lilo?]"

No response from the foreground. Plenty from the back.

"[Last night was... kinda nice, wasn't it? I'm not sure if I'd want to do that again. But I'm glad it happened. Cus Dolly got to not worry.]"

He silently agrees with every sentiment expressed.

"[I don't want her to worry ever again, Lilo. She deserves better than that. But I don't know if 'better' will be you or me in the end. It's up to her, and...]"

He rearranges his weight, unsure where Kroko's going with this. The speaker does too.

"'hem. [What I'm trying to say is. Whoever she picks, we've got to take good care of her, okay? We've got to prove that her choice was the right one.]" He straightens out his arm to fill the space. "[I promise to do that if you will.]"

Purple whole and purple tips meet, shake, and the contract is sealed with tentative smiles.

This is when the door swings open and Dolly beckons them inside. As before, they slip in carefully.

"[Hi, Dolly. How do you feel now?]"

"[Dunno. A bit of everything. But I think I might have made up my mind.]" When there's no follow-up, she carries on. "[Something came to me when we went back to bed last night. This past week, I think I've been working on an either-me-or-them basis. I wanted either you two to not have to hurt, or for me to be comfy. There wasn't any middle ground. But that's not how relationships work, is it? You've got to give **and** take. You can go against a few of your principles to try and make someone else happy, but go too far and you're just left feeling awful.]" She seems to be speaking to one of them in particular now, though neither can tell which. "[I'm still sorry for last night.]"

"[It's okay. It felt better than I thought it would.]" And Lilo's eyes convey that he backs the other up.

"[It's. That's actually kind of what I was about to say. You two had to get out of your comfort zone, and you say it worked out for all of us. And it got me to thinking about me, and my stumbling blocks, and what I hold dear and what I don't, and, well.]" Only now does it look like her spirits lift, though with a great effort. "[Maybe I have to get out of my comfort zone too. Maybe what I've been trying to avoid will actually work, like last night did. I dunno.]"

"[What do you mean?]"

"[I mean that. I **mean** that, if you two don't mind, if everyone agrees, I mean. I was thinking that – maybe – you two could... share.]"

\---

about Wochiläums

The thing about the first few weeks of something is, they fly by like a frightened sparrow on the wind, so people who aren't Kroko think it's silly to keep track of them. But Kroko is Kroko, so he does. And as Dolly slips back into Lilo's room (it's his turn tonight) to meet her two now officially boyfriends, he's immediately set on reminding her of this.

"[You know what day it is tomorrow, Dolly?]" he asks as they lift her from the floor and into their arms.  
From her reply and the subsequent snuggling into them, she might have needed that. "[Let's-Actually-Make-Some-Progress-At-Last Day? That'd be nice.]"  
"[Same, but that wasn't it. It's our sixth] Wochiläum!"

"...Wochiläum?"  
"[That's my new name for it. Week anniversary.] Woche, Jubiläum, Wochiläum, [see?]"  
Lilo shakes his head, and she does the same, but smaller. "[That's not a real word, honey.]"  
"[Of course it is, I made it up so it can be one. Don't you know how words--?]" Any more protestation is cut off with a quick kiss from her, which she repeats on Lilo. It's her way of making sure neither of them feel left out and he can't help but melt when she does it and those ears bounce with her because she is so _cute._

Once they've found their way under the covers, Dolly finds her way back to what he was really trying to say. "[Still, you're right. Six weeks is a long time. Honestly, I'm glad we've managed to get this far, given... well, you know.]"  
They do, and he sees Lilo squeeze her hoof to prove it. He still can't talk, but lately they've been getting to understand him more and more.

"[Do you think we'll make it to eight weeks then?]" he hopes. "[Or three months? Or ten?]"  
"[I don't know. This is new territory for me, remember? There's still a lot of – let's call them fears in me that I need to sort out. And that could take ages for all I know--]"  
The hippo's now looking worried and giving a closer hug than before. Kroko's tempted to do the same, but he holds back for the moment. He'll get his turn later.  
"[I know, Lilo. I know you're both trying to make it work. So am I. It's just me being a bad brain.]" The order is reversed this time, with Lilo getting the first kiss, though he doesn't go as gooey over it.

"[Speaking of brains, how was your day today?]" asks Kroko.  
"[Weird. Full of thinking, mostly. Thinking and talking and – and –]" She halts, as though having second thoughts about saying something, then charges on. "[And this may sound completely off topic, but have either of you noticed Dub acting kinda _weird_ lately?]"

Both boyfriends say in their own ways that no, they haven't.  
"[No, didn't think you had. I only noticed the other day, but it's been bugging me since then. Like, I was coming out and he was just leaning against the wall, like this.]" Her arm props itself on the head of the bed, and he's reminded of the broken wing that started the whole thing. "[Not doing his rope, nothing. I asked him why and he was like 'don't need to', then 'I'm really fit now', and then I told him he's said he's really fit before and he still jumped then, and he looked like he didn't know how to answer that and ran off! I mean, it's a simple enough question.]"  
"[Huh. That _is_ strange.]"  
"[Didn't even mention his timer or anything. You'd think that'd be Answer #1.]"

Her face is falling. He's got to lighten the mood. "[Maybe he's having a] Wochiläum [too?]"  
"[No, don't think that's it. He's never said anything about a boyfriend, and having one's not supposed to make you that silly anyway.]"  
"[...Dolly, do we make you silly?]"  
"[Of course not. Well, not that much,]" says Dolly fondly. "[Feh. Whatever it is, I probably can't do anything about it tonight. I'm gonna try not worrying about it til morning. That might help.]"

They fall into one of the comfortable silences that usually arise between, and after, the conversations with their sheep.

Or try to. She breaks it again before it's really settled. "[...Argh, brain's not letting me not worry...!]"  
More soft squeezing of her arms from Lilo.  
"[It's fine, cupcake. I can tell it off from here. … All right, if you wanna talk, talk. What's the point of me worrying about what's up with so-and-so when I'm trying to keep my boys happy down here? Tell me, brain – what is the purpose?]"


	2. Serial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unlike 'Consequences', this was written on the same day as the main body of the fic was finished, and is intended to be part of it, hence last chapter's seemingly misplaced ending. I just place it here for the purposes of parallel structure.

The door to the strangely empty therapy room slams shut as Dolly slips inside, ragged and out of breath. Her mind is racing, her knees are going, she's got no idea if her boys know where she is, and she's really starting to regret asking herself that question last night, she should have known it'd get her into this – this –

"Somethin' wrong?"

She's blindsided by this new voice, but her brain runs it through fast enough to know it's only Dub before she lashes out.  
"Oh thank god, Dub, yes, something's wrang, really wrang," she cries, her words falling over themselves to escape. "It's wi' Dr Wood, he looks different, he's got sharp things, an' he asked me to, I had t' gie out!"  
"Whoa, calm down, you're using lots of words there. What'd he want?"

In one breath, the whole story comes out. Her summoning for a so-called innocent talk; the subtle scary change in his demeanor as he spoke; the claws that rested on his desk. And worst, his request that she 'make things easier on him by joining him now', and his elaboration on what that meant. That dangerous, sordid demand. One that she fiercely refused, of course.  
Who would want to become something like that?

Dub doesn't respond right away. He simply cocks his head a bit, crosses and uncrosses one leg over the other. Then he says, "That wasn't very nice."  
"Too reit it wasnae nice of him! Doesn't 'at kinda thin' count as sexual harrass--?"

"Not that. You didn't hafta, um, deny him like that. He's only trying to help."

He's gotta be shitting her.  
"Didne ye hear what I jist said?! He asked me t--"  
"Uh-huh, I heard. And I'm sayin' it's not nice to run away from him. He's gonna be upset with you now."  
"And?"  
A stretch along the wall, like the slipping free of a long held facade. "And it's not good to get him upset, duh. Like, I know that much and I can't think."  
"Dornt be glaikit, Dub, ay course ye can think. Arenae ye thinkin' reit now?"

"Nope." He lets out a quiet giggle – Christ, she's never heard him _giggle_ before. "I don't have to. Wood does all the thinkin', like he told you he does. And if ya join him you won't have to think either. You'll be too much of a silly slut like me."

Two things resound in Dolly simultaneously, a felt dissonance. _Oh hell oh hell oh hell_ from her upper layers; **_slut_** unleashed from within.  
"I- No, no I won't," she stammers.  
"What, you don't think you'll be a slut?"  
"No – stop callin' me 'at! I'm nae!" _**Aren't you, She With Two Boyfriends?**_  
"Nah, I guess not. I mean, I'm the slut. Wood can't have two sluts or he'll get confused." She'd say he thinks for a bit while her mind goes numb, but she knows better now. "...What about sket? You used to, like, say that all the time, and it means kinda--"

She fumbles backwards, neither wanting to leave or stay a second longer. " **Shut up!** I'm nae a sket!" _**Whore, maybe.** _  
He follows. "Well, like, if you're not a sket and you're not a slut, whatcha gonna be?" _**Tart?**_ "You gotta be something. And you're not gonna have the brain to work it out later, are ya?"  
"Aye I will," she shouts over the alternatives _**Tramp**_ that bubble from her gut, "I'm nae a sket, I'm nae losin-- I've got brains--"

She walks into something. Someone. Someone small and solid, grip rough on the neck.  
"Apparently not enough of them to remember to lock the door," says Dr Wood.

She's brought down, being bound by tie, trussed like a leg of lamb, before she has the chance to scream.

"Dub, make sure no one can get inside, then sit next to me. This will be my first outside of you. And I want you to witness every second of it."

The turtle giggles again, in obedient pleasure.


End file.
